A rose wine is light and dry like a Chardonay, but softened by the tint of heavier sweeter deep red grapes.

The first time I had a rose was in Nice. Down some miserable alley full of "rotten Algerians" (brooding over all the naked women) and in a dark and crooked doorway, in the back room of some Italianate restaurant. Trompe l'oeil windows were painted on the crumbling plaster: I was told at drunken belabored length that this style of decoration was a local specialty. I couldn't see what the big deal was with a painting of a window, where there should have been a real one to let in some fresh air.

Then the swarthy chef pulled the bottle from a greasy bucket of ice. My impression was that this was the soda pop of wines - the chef had said so, for he himself did not particularly care for wine as it was normally served. He had a sweet tooth, he explained.

For me, I had long heard the Homeric comparisons of wine with honey. Honestly, I still don't understand them. At 16, although I'd grown up drinking wine, my experiences had always been of a caustic beverage - sour, bitter, spicy - like coffee - a flavor unfathomable. Although by now I drank it and liked it, I was still somewhat unclear as to exactly how that had happened. If asked directly, I would have been hard pressed to describe the flavor as "good."

So I was eager to see if Rose was the poetic "honeyed" wine which I found inconceivable. In actual fact it tasted neither like honey, nor like soda pop. When it comes to subtle things, people often fail miserably to describe them, especially when there is no predesignated and universally acknowledged word.

What it did taste like, though, was wine. It burned on my tongue, and stung my stomach, and I was bitterly let down, and freshly disappointed in the muse of so many pompous poets. I probably scowled. Everyone gave me the knowing look of condescension: after all, I was only a child. Someone offered me a can of coke, and although I felt self conscious, I didn't protest.

"Don't worree," the chef shrugged, gesturing to his North African kitchen staff. "These f***ing Algerians can't drink wine eiser." The French kitchen staff smirked. It was cold comfort at best.

But from the warm aluminum can, first came the biting carbonation, then the lukewarm syrup. The summer night was 100 degrees and dripping wet. The thick air and sweet warm coke caught in my throat unexpectedly after the cool clarity of the wine. I choked and coughed and my eyes watered.Coke is much harder to drink warm.

I'll take the wine. The kitchen roared with laughter.

"So at least now we know you are not a Muslim!" the chef chuckled. A few of the Algerians scoffed. After the coke, the rose hit my palate like frost. Suddenly the oppressive heat melted into irrelevant details; the oily residue of the city dissolved into crystalline freshness. Citrus flavors of grapefruits and tart lemonade mingled in the wash of fermentation and grape juice. It was a revelation. Not honey, but salvation from the sweltering Mediterranean night.

I'm not sure if it was a lesson or a coincidence, but somehow I suddenly understood why they drank wine in Nice, and I could taste the rocky yellow hills above the city, the shimmering Mediterranean waves, the rough scrub brush and the soft, hazy sky, all rolling across my tongue and deep into the core of my body.

So now, while the Beijing monsoon summer is in full swing, and the Olympic smog leaves a bad taste in my mouth, I am looking for a good cool bottle of Rose.

how can I miss this thread??!

good you brought this up-- I just LOVE Rose'. you know there's 3 types or grades of rose"? there's the anjou, the most common one, cotes de Provence, the best one that can rival a chablis--TAVEL rose'( this i found is so hard to find here in LA, haven't even come across it)

I miss Europe for stuff like this-- can't even find Corbieres' wh is pretty ordinary but good for everyday.

just remembered--France does such a small production of Tavel which they like to keep for themselves-- so if you come across it in Beijing?! grab it-- it'll be worth it & great to go with Chinese food-- has enough body & fruitiness .. delightful!

where i am? I'm lucky if I come across cotes de provence.

after thought: & white zinfandel just doesn't cut it,either!!! nothing like a good rose'.

another easy wine to drink i find(for me anyway) is: LAMBRUSCO.. not those capped bottle ones-- but the real corked dry ones-- slightly fruity with a fizz(even the red ones) great with light pasta sauces, chicken or on it's own.even w/ some Asian.